What Happens in Aman Stays in Aman
by Ro-and-Dan
Summary: Elrohir dies a sudden and violent death. Zany shenanigans ensue.
1. Chapter 1

All was quiet. Glorfindel stood outside in the practice fields, sparring with the young warriors. Lindir sat under a pile of robes in his closet, composing music and hiding from his older brothers. The kitchen staff were working at a relaxed pace, handing out treats to stray elflings who wandered through. The Lord and Lady of Rivendell were away in Lindon visiting Lady Celebrían's parents. The twins had been left behind as they were still deemed too young to travel outside of the protected valley - and a large part of the reason for leaving was to give the parents some time away from the children. As much as the elves loved their children, one could only handle two rambunctious half-elven twins before needing a long, relaxing break.

Young elves were outside sparring, walking, riding, and picnicking by some of the many waterfalls. The sky was clear and the weather was warm. The entire valley was wrapped in a feeling of comfort, relaxation, and peace. Erestor was sitting at his desk reading a saucy romance novel tucked safely within the pages of a much heavier history tome when the peace was broken by a loud, frantic scream. Recognizing the voice, he nearly threw his book down as he ran into the hallway, nearly colliding with one of the twins as the shrieking elfling ran from his own room.

Reaching out to stop him, Erestor's concern grew when the elfling – judging from the way the hair was pulled back, Erestor guessed uncertainly that it was Elladan he held – pushed and shoved him, showing no signs of recognition. Breaking free, Elladan fled down the hall leaving Erestor with no choice but to follow. The elfling raced outside and ran around the the side of the house towards the patch of lawn below the window of the room he shared with his brother. When he and Erestor got there however, they found a small crowd of elves had already arrived before them.

In the centre of the small group was Glorfindel, crouched beside a small form crumpled in the grass. Erestor's heart lurched sickeningly and he swayed as he realized what must have happened. Elladan shoved his way past the other elves to try and get to the body on the ground, but Glorfindel gently held him back. Hefting the screaming elfling into his arms, the reborn warrior stood suddenly and addressed the small group of elves that had followed him when they had first seen the small form fall from the second floor window.

"Leave us." He stated firmly, and the gathered warriors quickly dissipated, leaving behind Glorfindel, Erestor, and the inconsolable Elladan. Passing the kicking Elladan to Erestor, Glorfindel quickly crouched once more beside the small body in the grass. His hands shook slightly as he gently turned the limp body over, ignoring Erestor as the other elf crouched nearby, both of his arms still fully dedicated to keeping hold of the struggling elfling.

Elladan began hiccuping between his wails and cries, and Erestor jolted slightly when small teeth found his arms and the child bit down hard. Still, he held the elfling close to his body with one arm, while the other stroked his hair helplessly, not sure what he was trying to accomplish with the futile gesture.

When Glorfindel finally turned back to them, he was ashen faced and shaking. He shook his head gently. Erestor's hold went limp, and the elfling he held tumbled onto the ground, crawling to where his twin lay and collapsing across the body and tightly gripping the shirt. Elladan's wails and shrieks died almost instantly, and he instead lie silent and limp across his twin's body, moving one hand to hold that of his twin tightly in his grip. His other hand found a fistful of Elrohir's hair and clutched it desperately. Erestor helplessly looked between them and Glorfindel, not sure of what to do.

Glorfindel stood, his expression unreadable. If possible, he was even paler than before. He abruptly turned and walked away, freezing after only a few paces. He stayed there, frozen and shaking, his back to Erestor and the twins.

Erestor turned back to find Elladan patting his twin's face and moaning.. "Ro... Ro... Ro... Get up, gwanur-nin... Elrohir... tithen gwador..." His words dissolved into a voiceless whine.

Feeling Erestor kneeling in the grass beside him and stroking his hair, he abruptly turned away from the body of his twin and buried his face in Erestor's robes, keening Elrohir's name aloud, completely unaware of the older elf's own inner turmoil.

Erestor, for his part, had no idea how to proceed.

He had seen death before. But always in battle. Elves, as a rule, did not die sudden and unexpected deaths. Elves, as a rule, did not die before they managed to reach 15 years of age. Elves, as a rule, did not die on perfectly peaceful days in hidden and protected refuges. And, as a rule, the elves he had seen die had not been the children of his Lord whom had been placed under his own care. His hands shook as they absently stroked Elladan's back and ran trembling fingers through his hair.

He stared blankly ahead. What would he tell Elrond when he returned? What would he tell Celebrían? What would he tell Celeborn and Galadriel? How had this even occurred? The twins had been in their room. Unattended. True, they spent many hours reading in their room unattended, and no one had ever anticipated it being a problem before, but... Elrohir must have been sitting on the windowsill and lost his balance. Leave it to Elrohir to lose his balance and fall out a window, of all things.

Glorfindel, who since freezing in his retreat had become as still and gray as a statue, moved again, startling Erestor out of his reverie. He quickly stepped towards Erestor once more, kneeling and taking the still body of Elorhir into his arms, standing again. He glanced at Erestor and the child weeping in his arms, his expression stony and face white. "Take him away from here. Not back to their room. Put him to bed. I will find you later." The golden warrior stalked off.

Mentally numb, Erestor stood and followed the instructions without question. Eventually, he laid Elladan in Elrond and Celebrían's bed, where he cried himself to exhaustion but still did not sleep. When Glorfindel finally found them later, Elladan was laying in the bed, staring at the far wall sightlessly, his breaths weak and ragged. Erestor was still running his trembling hands through the child's dark and knotted hair.

Elladan tipped his head over slowly as Glorfindel approached the bed, his eyes unfocused. It took some moments before recognition sparked in them. "Where is-" his voice was hoarse, and Glorfindel interrupted him.

"Drink this." The golden warrior spoke firmly, handing the elfling a small cup. Elladan stared at it blankly for long moments, uncomprehendingly, until Glorfindel tipped it upwards to his mouth. He swallowed automatically before lowering the cup, staring at it blankly once more. Glorfindel took it from him.

"What did you do?" Erestor asked cautiously, glancing over at the still pale warrior. He had never seen Glorfindel this shaken before. He realized belatedly that he probably looked just as bad, if not worse.

Glorfindel glanced at Erestor expressionlessly. "I gave him something to make him sleep without dreams. He needs to rest, but he will not find any peace in his dreams right now."

Erestor nodded, accepting this. Even as they watched, Elladan's eyes slid shut and he finally fell asleep, his breathing softening even further.

Glorfindel found a chair on the opposite side of the bed and sat in it, seeming to suddenly collapse in on himself, becoming much smaller than Erestor had ever seen him. Now that all of his pressing tasks were done, his overpowering presence was all but gone. Even now he still trembled and his eyes held a faraway and haunted look.

"What will we do?" Erestor asked suddenly, weakly. He regretted it when Glorfindel raised his eyes to meet his. Erestor couldn't name what he saw in the ancient elf's eyes, but it unnerved him deeply. The unshakable elf Erestor had always known Glorfindel was unrecognizable. Instead, Erestor found himself looking into the eyes of one so weighed down by their grief that it sent a tremor through him. Those were the eyes of one who had given up, and if Erestor didn't know better, he would say Glorfindel himself had given in to his grief and begun to fade.

"I do not know."

Erestor finally broke his gaze and instead stared at the far wall, before letting it fall again to the small figure resting in the bed. It was unnerving, to see only one of them. Only twelve, the twins refused to sleep apart from each other, and were likewise rarely separated in waking. How strange to think that now he would only ever see the one.

"Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían will return within the month." He spoke again, quietly. "What will we tell them?" He was thinking to himself, almost having forgotten that Glorfindel was still in the room with him. As such, he nearly jumped when the other elf answered him,

"I do not know." Came Glorfindel's broken whisper.

Erestor snapped his head up and was alarmed to find Glorfindel trembling, with his face buried in his hands. This was not natural. Erestor did not know what to do.

"Elladan will fade without his twin." Glorfindel announced suddenly from the other side of the room. "He will not overcome this. It is unlikely even that he will be able to last until Elrond and Celebrían return. He is beyond his father's help now."

Erestor worked his mouth open and shut a few times, but no sound came out. He snapped it shut and took a steadying breath, straightening his back. "And what of you?" He asked, regarding the normally charismatic warrior's sorry state.

Glorfindel paused at the question, thinking first. "I have failed Elrohir, I have failed Elladan, and I have failed my Lord and friend. However, they are not yet beyond _my_ help." With that he stood, casting a glance at the bed, and hurrying out of the room with a fey gleam in his eyes that left Erestor feeling deeply unsettled. He prepared to follow, but in that moment, Elladan tightened his grip on the elder elf's hand, prompting him to stay.

* * *

 **Bear with me here. There is no humor until about four chapters in. None. At all.**

 **Seriously. It gets dark before it gets funny.**

 **-Dan**


	2. Chapter 2

In bed in his room in Lindon, Elrond woke abruptly. He sat up, grasping at his sheets and choking on his breath. He reached out a hand to steady himself, trying to calm his racing heart. He was not sure what he was reaching for, but in the end the hand of his wife found his and grasped it. He whipped his head to the side and found her sitting up and staring at him.

"Meleth nín." She spoke in quiet concern, fear etched on her face. "What is it? What is wrong?"

He held eye contact with her until he brought his heartbeat back under control, and told her to get dressed and pack their bags. "We must leave for Imladris as soon as possible. I fear something has happened to the children. I dare not think what."

Celebrían nodded, watching him anxiously as he dressed and left the room.

Outside, Elrond made straight for where the horses were waiting, surprised to find Celeborn and Galadriel already standing outside in the starlight waiting for him. They turned when he approached, and he faltered at the stern and solemn expression on Galadriel's face.

"I apologize for my abruptness, but we must cut our stay short. We will leave within the quarter hour."

Galadriel nodded, holding his gaze steadily. "Your horses are ready. Yet, I fear you may already be too late."

Elrond faltered slightly and blanched, but quickly reschooled his features into a stony expression. "All the more reason to leave with haste, then." He stated firmly.

Galadriel only gazed at him solemnly as Celeborn emerged from behind her, dressed in a light tunic, breeches, and travelling cloak.

The silver haired elf lord reached out and grasped his son-in-law's arm. "We will leave immediately." He announced firmly. "The rest of your guard will follow as soon as they are able, along with some of ours as well."

If Elrond was surprised at Celeborn's offer – or his readiness to travel – he said nothing of it. He simply nodded and turned to retrieve his wife and bags. He resolutely ignored the uneasy feeling that kept telling him he would still return too late to be of any help.

* * *

Elladan rarely responded to outside stimulation. He would not eat. He had not spoken. His breathing grew weaker each day as the elves tending him watched his fëa giving up it's tenuous hold to his hröa. The elves of Imladris were cast into a dark depression. The days seemed darker and gloomier to most, regardless of the fact that there was little actual change in the sunny weather. Life in the haven had come nearly to a standstill as few elves were sure how to proceed. Many worried about their Lord and Lady, and dreaded their return. Many believed that return would come sooner then planned, as there was no way that both Elrond and the Lady Galadriel could be unaware that something had happened.

Yet, the one who seemed least effected was Glorfindel. After walking out of Elrond and Celebrían's room, leaving Erestor and Elladan behind him with his strange pronouncement, Glorfindel had quickly returned to his previous self. His glow returned along with his confidence. His pallor faded and his skin regained healthy colour, and he stopped shaking in his movements. Erestor had suspected, on the first day, that Glorfindel himself may have been taking the first small steps along the road to fading. And while he still suspected this to have been the case, it was clear that he no longer was. Glorfindel was filled with a newfound sense of confidence and surety that could not be shared by any other resident of Rivendell.

Erestor dreaded knowing what had brought this about, knowing it could only mean Glorfindel had come up with an incredibly stupid and dangerous idea that he had somehow convinced himself would help the situation. Thus, Erestor had spent his days dwelling on Glorfindel's parting words, trying to decipher what possible plan could do anything to help a situation this far beyond hope. And then, upon realizing just whom he was thinking about, and just how egotistical this elf could be, he realized that he had a very sinking suspicion about Glorfindel's intentions.

He confronted him in the hallway outside of Elrond's room the next time Glorfindel came to check on Elladan.

"You plan on going to Valinor." Erestor hissed venomously to the golden elf lord.

Glorfindel blinked in surprise, but did not deny the claim as Erestor had hoped he would. "What?"

"You- you somehow think- you somehow think you can make it all the way there, and convince Mandos to simply release Elrohir, and bring him back with you again. Tell me this is not what you've decided is the most reasonable course of action."

Glorfindel hesitated. "Well, that's not exactly it." He denied slowly.

Erestor gave a strange sort of strangled, choking noise. "Not exactly? But you do have the gall to think you can simply sail into Valinor, grab whomever you like from Mandos' Halls, and come straight back again, don't you? You really think they'll allow it, just because you managed to somehow get them to let you come back once. You cannot go pushing the line like that, Glorfindel!"

Glorfindel frowned. "You assume too much." He scoffed. "You don't know any of the details of how or why I returned the first time. What makes you think you can know more about Valinor and Námo then I, when you have seen neither?"

Erestor backed up slightly.

"How do you know Námo won't simply let Elrohir go because I ask nicely? What makes you so sure that isn't how I got him to let me return in the first place?"

Erestor balked.

"It isn't." Glorfindel placated him quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I promise it was terribly more interesting then that. But you couldn't have known if I hadn't told you."

Erestor shook his head slightly in disbelief. "Still, even if you are so sure Mandos would let you return, you would never manage to get a boat before Elrond returns. He would not allow you to leave, regardless of your intentions. I would not allow you to leave. Doubtless, he is already on his way back even now. How do you expect to get his leave?"

Glorfindel simply raised one golden eyebrow at the shorter elf in front of him, trying to tell him what he can and can not do. "Do not tell me that you have forgotten there is more then one way to gain entrance to Námo's Halls. Need I remind you, I did not take a boat the first time."

Erestor balked again, this time bodily throwing himself at the larger elf and grabbing his arms in alarm. "You intend to kill yourself!" he accused, his voice nearly a shriek.

Glorfindel frowned at him disapprovingly. "I wouldn't put it that-"

"You intend to kill yourself." Erestor repeated. He was frantically pulling at Glrofindel's arms and clothing in some vain attempt to gather his thoughts and slow his frantic heartbeat after this new revelation. "Glorfindel, no elf- this is not- the only- you cannot! This is not right, this is not the way. Elves die, Glorfindel. Sometimes,there is nothing we can do! Elrohir is not the only elf who has been taken unfairly, too early, but Glorfindel, you cannot-" he breathed deeply. "You cannot kill yourself in order to drag him back from Mandos' Halls. As much as I desire for it to be so simple, it is not. Your intentions are noble, but... No one would ask this of you. Elrond would not, Elladan would not. It is not the solution, and I will not allow it!"

Glorfindel gently but firmly took both of Erestor's hands in one of his own and moved them aside with ease. He stepped past Erestor, pausing only to respond, with unshakable resolve, "You cannot stop me."

"And what if this plan somehow fails? Then Elrond is left without either of his children, nor his closest friend. What do you think that would do to him?"

Glorfindel frowned at the dark haired elf severely. "I will not fail." He stated firmly, and stalked off down the hallway, leaving the shorter elf standing alone in the hallway.

"What do you think that would do to _me_?" Erestor asked the empty hallway, letting his arms fall uselessly to his sides.

Unbeknownst to either of them, their raised voices had woken the only occupant of the room beside them, and throughout their conversation, a firm light had begun to enter dull gray eyes again as what he heard sent his thoughts hurrying.


	3. Chapter 3

Erestor was right, of course. He always was. What if he failed? What if he could not convince Námo that releasing the children – for Elladan would doubtlesly have faded as well to join his twin by the time Glorifndel got to them - was for the better interest of Middle Earth? What if he could not convince Námo to let himself leave the Halls and return to Middle Earth, yet again. Once was pushing it, but to expect the same treatment twice. Glorfindel was forced to admit to himself, however begrudgingly, that chances were very high that this plan would fall apart completely and fail, leaving him and the twins stuck in the Halls of Mandos until Námo saw fit to release them.

But, on the other hand, there was still a very small chance that, should everything work out the way Glorfindel intended, he return to Middle Earth bearing both of his Lord and Lady's children forth from death. It was not the prospect of returning yet again, the conquering hero, that appealed to him. It was the look he knew would be on Elrond's face upon seeing his children again. And, it was the devastation he would face should Glorfindel fail that convinced him he needed to try. So long as the possibility existed, however slim, he needed to try. Although Elrond would not blame him, this was a failure he could not live with.

So lost was his in his thoughts that Elladan managed to sneak up on him completely unnoticed. It was not until he decided he was far enough from Rivendell and stopped, drawing his hunting knife, that the small elfling dropped out of the trees and announced "I am joining you."

Glorfindel could not remember the last time he had been so startled. He nearly dropped his blade and stumbled backwards, drawing one hand to his chest to still his rapidly beating heart.

"Elladan!" He hissed in disapproval, before suddenly realizing whom he was speaking to. "Elladan!" He repeated again in alarm. "You are-!" He did not know how to finish that sentence. Out of bed. Stalking through the trees like a wood-elf. No longer at death's door. He finally registered that the elfing was standing there, staring at him stubbornly, arms crossed, and waiting for a response.

"Absolutely not!" He snapped. "You are to return to Imladris this minute. Erestor will have a heart attack when he finds you missing."

Elladan smiled slightly, his eyes twinkling at the memory of Glorfindel's own reaction. But he only shook his head and spoke, "I will not."

"You must."

"I know where you are going, and I am going with you."

"I am going to Aman." Glorfindel argued. "And the journey is not fit for one such as yourself."

Elladan scowled. "You go to find Elrohir. I am going with you."

Glorfindel shook his head. "You cannot."

Elladan planted his feet firmly and stared Glorfindel down as he spoke. "You can carry me all the way back home if you like. I would simply follow you once you left again."

"You do not know the way." Glorfindel argued.

Elladan's eyes gleamed wickedly. "I do."

Glorfindel frowned, but before he could speak, Elladan appeared to change the subject.

"The journey to Aman would be a long one." He said.

Glorfindel paused, puzzled. "It would." He agreed, slowly.

"Yet you carry nothing with you but your blade." Elladan added knowingly.

Glorfindel's eyes snapped to the young elfling, taking him in with a far more analytical gaze. "And you carry nothing with you either, for someone who insists on coming with me." It was true. Elladan bore nothing but his small tunic, leggings, and boots, along with a small leather pouch tied to his belt. He did not look prepared for a short walk around Imladris, let alone a journey to the West.

Elladan nodded firmly at Glorfindel . "Like I said, I know the way. I may not know how to get to Aman on my own, but all elves can find Mandos. If you do not take me with you to Elrohir, I will find him on my own."

After a long moment of silence, Glorfindel let go of a long sigh and sat heavily on the dirt floor of the woods, slumping slightly. "Elladan," he spoke quietly. "Would you do this to me? Can you not remain and wait for your father?"

Elladan hesitated, before uncrossing his arms and sitting down beside the warrior. He reached over and placed one hand on the Vanya's knee. "I can't, Glorfindel. You are going to go get Ro. I have to come with you. Ada would understand." He finished firmly.

Glorfindel was not so sure he would. He shook his head. "Elladan, you do not know what you ask of me. I cannot return you to Imladris. It is like you said. You would not hesitate to follow me the moment you were not being watched. But I cannot do this. I cannot bring you with me."

"You can't leave me behind." Elladan insisted. "You can't!"

Glorfindel shook his head weakly. "I do not know what to do."

"Take me with you!" Elladan repeated his plea.

"I cannot." Glorfindel responded helplessly.

Elladan grew frustrated. "Why not? You will need me! I can help! The Halls of Mandos are ever growing. Surely, they have changed even since you were last there. Finding Ro there all alone will be impossible! Take me with you," he insisted again, "And I can find him. I will know where he is. I will know his fëa. I will."

"I do not doubt it." Glorfindel admitted.

"Then why not?"

"Do you really not understand what you are asking me?" Glorfindel pleaded, looking down at the blade in his hands.

"I ask only that you let me come."

Glorfindel shook his head, his mind racing. "I do not want this." He whispered. "Is there no way to convince you otherwise? Please, Elladan. If there is any way for you to trust me, to wait, to stay here, safely, with your adar and naneth, then you must do so."

Glorfindel waited as the silence grew, Elladan biting his lip and staring at the dirt. Finally though, he answered. "There is no way. I am coming with you, one way or the other."

Glorfindel's voice shook. "I see."

He rose to his knees and turned to face Elladan, hands shaking. "Please, do not ask this of me..." He insisted, once more, but the elfling's stubborn expression remained. He carefully raised his blade in one hand, staring down at it. The hand holding it was shaking badly. The other had a tight grip of Elladan's much smaller hand. In all his years, Glorfindel had never imagined he would ever find himself in this position. _How did this happen?_ He asked himself. _In trying to save the life of one of my Lord's sons, I am now preparing to take the life of the other._

The elfling's other hand reached up, to rest upon the trembling hand which held the blade. "Glorfindel, wait." He spoke.

Glorfindel breathed a sigh of relief. He had changed his mind. He would not make him-

"Take this." He insisted, reaching down to unstrap the leather pouch from his belt. He held it up to Glorfindel. "This will not hurt. There is enough for both of us."

Glorfindel closed his eyes in understanding. Elladan had not changed his mind. He lowered himself back down into the dirt until he was sitting beside the elfling once more, and pulled the child into his lap. _You say your adar would understand, but I swear to you, he would not._

Glorfindel shuddered as he drew leaves from the pouch, not knowing what they were, but trusting that Elladan did. He could not. He could not believe he was doing this. He could not do this.

Elladan's hand reached for what Glorfindel held. "Let me-"

Glorfindel's hands tightened around the leaves, not letting the elfing so much as touch them. "You must not." He whispered. "You must not touch this. You must not. I will do this." With that, he gently reached forward and placed the leaves in Elladan's open mouth. The elfling grimaced slightly as he chewed, and then, to Glorfindel's slowly growing horror, swallowed. "More." He insisted.

Thoughtlessly, in a disconnected manner, Glorfindel reached forward and gave him more. Once more, he chewed and swallowed, and once again, he asked for more. Again, Glorfindel numbly complied. He reached into the pouch once more but Elladan held out a hand to stop him. "This is enough." He sighed, and lay his head down on Glorfindel's chest, curled in the balrog-slayer's lap, a position in which he and his twin fell asleep often enough. Glorfindel held the small body closely to his as Elladan's breathing evened out, slowed, and eventually, ceased. Only now did Glorfindel truly begin to understand what he'd done, and he sobbed into Elladan's hair. "After all of these years, it is with _your_ blood that I name myself Kinslayer."

He stood, gently placing the young body on the ground, and held up the pouch. He stared at it, disdainfully, and venomously decided that he did not deserve such a painless and peaceful death as he had just delivered to the twelve year old. Furiously, he cast the pouch as far as he could, scattering the leaves everywhere. He breathed deeply and reached instead for his blade.


	4. Chapter 4

They rode hard, making what would normally have been nearly a month's journey in under half that time. Even so, just as they were nearing the borders of Imladris, Lord Elrond fell from his horse with a strangled cry.

Celebrían leapt from her own horse in one flowing motion and landed next to him. Taking his hand in her own, she placed her husband's head in her lap. He was as pale as she had ever seen him, and shaking terribly. He gripped her hand tightly in his own and his eyes stared off past her, seeing something only he could see, filled with anguish.

She bowed her head, not sure what this might mean, but still somehow knowing in her heart. She stroked his hair gently as he regained his wits, his eyes focusing once more, desperation mixing with the anguish.

Celeborn moved his horse forward towards them. "Elrond-"

Elrond pushed himself off the ground before the Sinda could continue. "I am fine. We must hurry." He spoke roughly as he remounted his horse, refusing to make eye contact with either his wife or father-in-law. He spurred his horse forward again, leaving them no choice but to follow. They were mere days from the house, but could make it there sooner if they did not rest for the night. All present knew they would be pushing on through the night.

* * *

When Erestor went to check in on Elladan that morning, he was not prepared to find the bed empty and elfling gone. He felt himself pale as his world narrowed and darkened. He barely caught himself on the doorframe as he turned and raced out of the room, panic rising. He ran through the hall calling for Glorfindel, ignoring the concerned looks of elves whom he pushed past in the halls on his mad dash.

Bursting into Glorfindel's room, it was immediately clear that the bed had not slept in. Growing more frantic, Erestor forcibly calmed himself and ran back outside to begin asking if anyone had seen Glorfindel. The resounding answer was no. Nobody had seen the golden haired elf lord since early last night.

With a heavy pit growing in his stomach, Erestor raced to the stables and demanded a horse. The stablehand looked confused but did not waste time questioning him. He prepared a horse faster then he ever had before, and soon Erestor was riding out of Imladris, dreading what he might find.

He did not know what to expect when he finally found Glorfindel. Even more worrying was the absence of Elladan. The last Erestor had seen him, he had been nearly comatose. All he could do was keep telling himself that however irresponsible and unhinged Glorfindel may be at the moment, and however dangerous and hopeless his ideas, there was no way he would let Elladan get tangled up in them.

Erestor had to hold onto that hope. As much as Glorfindel had been scaring him lately, he would not take things that far. He would keep Elladan from harm. Erestor could not believe anything less of his friend. He dare not. He rode on, fighting his rising panic and forcing himself to believe that this situation could somehow be salvaged.

* * *

Glorfindel was, himself, at that very same moment, flirting his way through Mandos' security with a small, but bright fëa tucked close to himself. Having been here once previously, he knew the secretary quite well, and had established some small relationship with her. She was under the impression that he was a Maia who worked in the Security Dept., and was quite taken by him. He himself had not lied to her to support this mistaken assumption, but neither had he taken it upon himself to clear up the confusion. Instead, he used his unfailing charm to keep her distracted as he convinced her that he was charged with retrieving this small fëa, for it had already been through here and somehow slipped passed him during processing.

Of course, she had to check him in the database. And of course, it showed that this small fëa, described by Glorfindel as being the small peredhel, Elrohir, had indeed already been processed. As the fëa was a nearly perfect match, she smiled and let him through.

Of course, Lúlea had realized her mistake many centuries ago and was well aware that Glorfindel was in fact a subversive elf running amok and causing shenanigans, but that did not change the fact that he was debonair and she fancied him.

So it was that Glorfindel and Elladan, unaware for the moment of their families' suffering outside these Halls, made it past their first obstacle and into the expansive Halls of Mandos. Their next step would be to find Elrohir, of course. But Glorfindel was sure that with the twins' bond, that task would be a simple one.

* * *

He could smell the blood before he could see it, so much was there. Erestor slowed to a halt as he saw the golden hair from a distance, not willing to cross the threshold into the clearing. Not wanting to see what he suspected would be before him. Steeling himself as best he was able, he dismounted and walked slowly forward. Already, he could see the body of his first and closest friend, covered in blood such that Erestor had little reason to believe he still lived. But there, a few feet away from the warrior, was Elladan curled in the dirt. Clean and untouched, round face completely relaxed, he looked as though he were sleeping peacefully.

Against his better judgement, Erestor felt hope spark in his chest, and resolutely not looking across the distance to Glorfindel, rushed to Elladan's side. He felt a sense of déjà vu as he rolled the limp elfling over in his arms. He was immediately aware of the stillness of the elfling's chest and the coldness of his skin. There was no life left in him, and hadn't been for some time. Erestor had come too late, and Glorfindel had made his most grievous decision. Hugging the elfling tightly to his chest, Erestor did not know how to feel. Absently, he noted the leather pouch across the clearing, and the leaves strewn about. He realized that this must be how Glorfindel and Elladan carried out their plan. Swift and painless. Erestor shuddered at the thought, again feeling ill.

Elrohir was gone, Elladan was gone, and Glorfindel was gone. All in the course of a few days. As he felt his face rest in the crown of soft hair of the child he held, he was filled with rage. He was furious with Glorfindel. They had all been grieving, but this decision? Erestor could not comprehend it. But at the same time, he felt sick for his anger. How dare he be so mad. How dare he feel this way when he knew, that whatever had driven Glorfindel to this, had also driven him to take his own life. That his closest friend, practically a brother, lie behind him dead. He had already had to witness Glorfindel die once before. Must he face it again? Placing Elladan back down as gently as he could and shutting his eyes, he attempted to mentally prepare himself for the next sight.

He felt numb, as though he were floating, and watching this scene unfold as though through someone else's eyes. He felt lightheaded and sick, and nearly giddy. Realizing he was never going to be prepared, but would need to turn eventually anyway, Erestor finally shifted to look clearly at his friend. The amount of blood was staggering. He could barely see the wounds through it, but when he could make them out he had to stagger to the side to be ill in the bushes, something he had not done for so long it almost passed beyond memory. The wounds were many and deep. If Erestor had not known that Glorfindel had inflicted them himself, he would not have believed that he had yet lived when the final blows were delivered. With that mental image, Erestor heaved once more into the grass, choking on nothing but his own breath and tears. In that moment the last remnants of his anger left him, leaving him weak. Whatever anger he may have felt at Glorfindel's decision, here was the evidence that it paled in comparison to the rage that Glorfindel himself had harbored. This senseless, violent bloody mess. Glorfindel had exacted a slow and painful death from the one who had taken Elladan.

Too weak to stand, Erestor dragged himself back over until he knelt above Glorfindel's body, taking in the details and vividly imagining the scene before him. He choked back another cry as his knees gave out beneath him and he collapsed across the golden one's chest, heedless of the sticky blood instantly soaking into his hair and clothing. He heaved weak sobs until he lacked the strength for even that, and then fell silent. He lay motionless in his spot as hours passed, unable and unwilling to move, heedless to the sounds of hoofbeats that eventually arose in the distance.

* * *

 **AN:** I just had to go back and edit previous chapters, because I realized I had made a major error. I had just assumed, like mostly everyone else, that Galadriel+Celebron=Lothlorien, end of subject. But the twins were born in TA130, and wouldn't have reached physical maturity until around TA180. This fic takes place roughly around TA142, and Galadriel and Celeborn don't take over in Lothlorien until TA1980. The twins would have been 1850 by the time that happened, definitely not the little tater tots here. At the time of this fic, Amroth would have still been ruling in Lothlorien, and Galadriel and Celeborn would have likely been living in Lindon at the time.

About the travel time:  
According to the map of middle earth scale, Rivendell is about 525 miles from Lindon (roughly!). A horse can average 20miles/day at a normal speed. 30m/d if it's being speedy. Horses can go over 100m in a day, but that's speedy endurance riding, and not sustainable. So taking into account that these are Elvish horses, and in a big hurry, I placed them at averaging about 45m/d. This means it would have taken Elrond and co. about 11 and a half days to get back to Rivendell. The journey, when traveling at a healthy and leisurely pace, would take roughly 26 and a half days, which is just under four weeks.


End file.
